


Synesthesian Sourge

by CapriciousVanity



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blind Character, F/F, Hermaphroditic Trolls, Knifeplay, Light Bondage, POV Second Person, Scourge Sisters, Synesthesia, Tentabulges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 04:16:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1884816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapriciousVanity/pseuds/CapriciousVanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Terezi relies on touch and scent to feel for Vriska, resulting in an interesting point of view in their passionate moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Synesthesian Sourge

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not fond of second person PoV, but it was part of a prompt. If there are glaring errors, feel free o let me know.

She glared at you with her polycoriatic eye, you could feel it. No matter how blind you were, you still could tie rope intricately around her body, cupping her breasts, looped around her shoulders and forearms, thick knots keeping her hands together, around her stomach, avoiding her grub scars, around her thighs, hips, rung around her bulge and a piece between her seed flaps, permeating that raindrop smell from how soaked you knew it was. The dragon head of your cane lifted her chin. You wanted her to look into your cherry eyes. You grinned and unsheathed the blade, tossing the empty half to the side and tapped her cheek. The smell of raindrops suddenly splashed when she jumped. She couldn’t talk, you made sure of that with an appropriately placed knot in her mouth.

The salt of her skin was pleasantly complimented by the oddly metallic rope. The blunt hardness of her silence made you want to test her. So you smiled and licked her cheek, your blade tapped at her back and the rain splashed again. A you felt the thunderstorm in her growl and ran your hand through her spider silk hair. It was a fitting texture, you think, and you jerk her oceanic head back, feeling the ripples of her voice wash over your senses. Your own naked body pushed against hers, one knee on the ground and your other leg wrapped around her saltlick body.

Your mouth crushed against hers and her freshwater taste filled you. Her sharp teeth prick at your lengthy tongue and your own sweet, over-bearing frosting taste of blood spots your mouth. You groan. Your own flavor isn’t your favourite, but her freshwater rain takes over and your tongue carefully touches her teeth. He growls again and you can just hear the thunderstorm and it sends shockwaves through your body. You part and you slap her lower back with the side of your blade, her body splashes forward and you can feel her bulge against your leg, wrapped up in dark metallic licorice.

You take a knot and tug at it, tightening the ropes around her. Your mouth covers her nipple as you suck, your sharp teeth being careful around her skin. Her sighs sound like flutes and her quiet moaning felt like little butterflies fluttering about. You’d best keep that to yourself. Don’t want to offend the fearsome spider8itch. You pull away and you carefully pull your blade back and make a small cut across her other breast. Her hissing is like thin sheet metal, thin enough to cut your cane in half. And it smells just delectable. You lick the droplets of cerulean and your knee touches against her wet nook. She stiffens and groans, thunderstorms sounding again as the storm and the raindrops of her sweat and blood felt oh so cool, refreshingly so.

You push her on her back even though her ankles are connected to her thighs and ass. She’s arched, probably to not sit on her hands behind her back. You figure it would hurt to have lumps dig into your back, too. You touch your knife to her neck, turning it to touch the blunt end to her skin and slide it up, keeping the sharp edge away from her. Her breathing is so quiet you wondered if she stopped, the danger of a sharp object being so close to such a vital, sensitive place. But no, you can still taste the rainwater of her breath, you can feel her blood pumper, hear it through her arachnoribcage. Her thunderstorm growls must be muffled curses and you chuckle, raspy and patient.

Your hand slides down her chest, to her stomach which you felt flex, then to her groin, and up her bulge before taking it and squeezing it gently. You sit between her knees and lower yourself, your long tongue darting out to taste and thunder once again rumbles in her growl. You lick again and put your whole mouth on her and you feel her squirm in delicious ways. Your tongue pressed into her and curled with open-mouthed kisses and for a moment you wonder how painfully hard her tied-up bulge actually is. Your lips touched the exposed base of her bulge and her lower body rose with another thundercrash of growling and moaning from her. Your tongue was inside her again, looking for tender spots, curling as you lapped the rainwater of her bluest-of-blue color and, my, was that a fluttering whimper from the great Mindfang? You thought so, and thus repeated the motion. Oh, how her voice reverberates and transcends beyond sight. It is a sweet petrichor, reminiscent of her rain and ocean water hue.

You continue your ministrations on her nook with the faint hint of teeth and a tongue that thrust repeatedly inside her, ignoring her bulge that must be aching by now and you could feel her body writhing like waves on high tide. And when you pulled away and she let out a hefty sigh, you didn’t let her rest just yet. Your hand around her bulge again and you stood above her before trying to lower yourself on her bulge, undoing only a few knots at a time, taking your literally sweet time to take her in. Your own sugary spill was lubricant enough around her and she bucked her hips, or tried to when you held her lower body down. A frustrated scream came from her and you just laughed and laughed and slapped the side of her ass with the flat of your knife, careful to not cut her but enough to really sting. And you finally sunk down and the plethora of ocean waves rippled in your body. You came up and dropped back down and her hips bucked up into you impatiently and soon the wet sound of your skin hitting, slapping, echoed. Her fluty pitch fluttered around you and you bit down on your lip, muffling your own needy sounds.

Your body was shaking, trembling, and you kept going as the clashing of ocean storms oscillated back and forth in your body. But before you wouldn’t let yourself finish just yet, you pulled away and your blue-blooded sister breathed heavy like a thick fog just wrapped around you two. You spread her legs as best you could with her rope bindings and guided your bulge into her, as far as you could go before you might actually cause too much pain, about halfway. And you pulled away and teased her with the tip of your bulge before pushing in farther, and did this until your bulge was fully sheathed into her nook, wriggling and massaging her from the inside and the way you felt her twist around you reassured her overstimulated pleasure. And you pulled out and slipped back in slowly at first, but you couldn’t take much more yourself, and eventually the familiar wet sound of skin against skin willed the air with the thick feeling of fog from her heavy breathing until you couldn’t hold yourself together.

You came, your nook flowing with your color and you could feel her own fluid envelope your bulge and leak from her seed flaps. You sat there, letting the feeling last as you got used to your weakening and heavy body before finally pulling out with one last moan from overstimulated pleasure. You cut a random knot to undo the whole attire and heard a tired grunt and the thump of her body hitting the floor. You lowered yourself beside Vriska and searched blindly around your area for your dragon cape to cover yourselves with. If there was anything you wanted to see, truly see with your eyes and not your other senses, it would be her cerulean-blue flushed face in your afterglow.


End file.
